


Puppy

by robindrake93



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Light Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Polyamory, Puppy Play, Softcore Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93
Summary: Ronan is Gansey's puppy.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Richard Gansey III/Ronan Lynch
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the American Gods quote: _“I'll be your puppy. What do you want me to do? Chew your slippers? Piss on the kitchen floor? Lick your nose? Sniff your crotch? I bet there's nothing a puppy can do that I can't do!”_ As well as Maggie making sure we all know that Ronan is Gansey's dog. 
> 
> Do not reupload/repost my fics.

Henrietta’s woods drew them like ravens to carrion and they needed the woods just as much as the ravens needed the carrion. Every day after school, Gansey and Ronan would shoulder their backpacks and melt into the shade of the trees, looking for somewhere quiet that they wouldn’t be bothered by anyone else. This was one such day in late spring. They were fourteen and the school year was almost over. This was the last leg of their first year together. 

After hiking for half an hour into the depths of the forest, Ronan stopped and flung his backpack down. There was nothing special about the place, just a small clearing surrounded by foliage. A stump and the fallen tree - rotting and home to all sorts of critters - that used to be a part of it said that this spot used to be as shaded as the rest of the forest. Now there was green grass and wildflowers growing. “Do you know what they call me?” Ronan asked as he rolled in the grass like he couldn’t stand his uniform to be clean. 

Gansey inspected the stump before sitting on it. It was surprisingly comfortable; at least nothing poked parts of him he would rather not be poked. He propped his backpack up against the stump and watched Ronan. “What do they call you?”

Ronan paused on his back, looking at Gansey from upside down. There were grass stains on his shoulders and leaves in his hair. His blue eyes were warm pools, an affection in them that invited affection in return. “Gansey’s puppy,” he quoted. 

Like this, Ronan certainly looked like a puppy. Gansey blamed the sun for the way his body warmed all over. “My puppy?” he repeated, trying to cover the warm feeling with amusement. It was difficult to school his face into the proper expression but finally he gave up and let his smile spread across his face.

Ronan was light always but now he seemed lit from within, pleasure making him glow with satisfaction. Gansey’s reaction to the silly nickname was clearly something that had been worrying him. “I don’t mind it,” Ronan admitted. 

Gansey’s heartbeat quickened and his stomach felt tingly. “You want to be my puppy?” 

Ronan considered for a few long moments. Pink slowly spread across his face as he blushed from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears. He rolled onto his belly and picked a blade of grass to tear into stripes. “Yeah,” he said. “Sure,” he added. 

“I’ve never had a puppy,” Gansey said thoughtfully. He liked the idea of Ronan being his very own. Something to snuggle and love and play with and take care of. He was uncomfortably hot now, clothes feeling too tight and stiff. It was just the sun, he told himself. It was an early summer heatwave. “What do puppies do?” 

Ronan, who had grown up on a farm and knew all about animals, looked serious suddenly. “Puppies are very badly behaved,” he announced. “They need to be trained.” 

Gansey tilted his head. He wasn’t an animal expert and Ronan was very confident about this. Still, he had no idea what on earth he would need to train Ronan to do. Ronan was so good already. “Trained to do what?” 

Ronan hesitated, considering. He sat up, kneeling in the grass. There was a rip in the right knee of his uniform pants that hadn’t been there before his enthusiastic roll in the grass. “Puppies bite,” he said eventually. “You’ve got to teach them not to.” 

Gansey’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t bite me,” he said, at once confident and scandalized by the idea. He pulled off his tie and then unbuttoned his shirt the first three buttons. It was so hot. 

Ronan had that expression on his face that meant he took what Gansey said as a dare. He crawled forward until his chest was even with Gansey’s knees. His gaze flitted over Gansey’s entire body as he considered where to best bite. 

Being bitten by Ronan didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Puppies were bound to have gentle bites, after all. They were just puppies. Gansey offered up his arm, not really believing that Ronan would bite him. 

But in the next moment, he was proven wrong when Ronan did, in fact, bite him. As predicted, it was not a hard bite. Ronan didn’t break the skin but there was just enough pressure that Gansey knew Ronan was holding back. Those blue eyes fixed on Gansey. 

Gansey’s stomach flipped. He could feel Ronan’s teeth - sharper than he thought they would be - and the gathering of his saliva. Absently he wondered where Ronan’s tongue was because he couldn’t feel that against his skin. After a moment of shocked hesitation, Gansey booped Ronan on the nose. “Let go,” he said. Those weren’t the words he was going to use. He was going to say _no biting._ But Gansey wasn’t sure that he actually wanted that command to be followed. It seemed good to keep his options open for the future. 

Ronan scrunched up his nose but let go. He swiped his hand over his nose even though the gentle tap hadn’t hurt. Ronan knew how to fight; a little boop wasn’t anywhere near as wounding as a punch. 

“Good puppy.” Gansey patted Ronan on the head. He half expected Ronan to roll his eyes but he didn’t. The blue of his eyes was a thin ring around the wide black of his pupils. “What else do puppies do?” 

Ronan’s face was suddenly inches from his, his stomach pressed against Gansey’s ribs. “Puppies jump.” A pause and Ronan added, “And lick your face.”

Gansey had just enough warning so that he tipped his chin up before Ronan could catch him on the cheek. Instead, Ronan’s tongue slid up the underside of Gansey’s jaw. His saliva left a brief cool spot on Gansey’s skin but Gansey felt anything but cool. He was sure that the temperature had risen another few degrees. His pants were so uncomfortably tight and warm. “Ronan!” he gasped, half laughing from surprise. “Get down, puppy!” 

Ronan sat back on his haunches. He was almost smiling, not quite but almost, and he looked equally pleased but uncomfortable. His eyes were intense. He looked like he wanted to say something but it took a few moments of them just looking at each other before Ronan - as red in the face as Gansey felt and surely that was because of the heat of the day - quietly said, “I don’t mind when you call me that.” 

It felt like a bolt going through Gansey’s abdomen and he didn’t know why. He felt like fire. More buttons were opened. “Aren’t you hot?” Gansey asked because he didn’t want to be the only one with his shirt hanging open. 

Ronan wiggled but didn’t move from his kneeling position, hands tucked between his legs. He nodded. “Puppies can’t work buttons. They don’t have hands.” 

“Of course not,” Gansey agreed. It seemed obvious to him that this was just part of the game. He beckoned for Ronan to come closer. As soon as Ronan obeyed the command, Gansey loosened his tie, thinking _it’s like a collar with a really short leash_. He turned it backwards, so that the tail hung down Ronan’s back. His fingers carefully went down the length of Ronan’s torso, working each button out of its hole and revealing more and more tanned skin. “There,” Gansey said when the last button had been opened. “Wouldn’t want my puppy to get overheated.” 

With the shirt open, Gansey could see Ronan’s pulse fluttering in the hollow of his throat. Ronan gazed at Gansey with an expression of longing that Gansey felt mirrored on his own face. He squirmed again, subtlying inching his way closer to Gansey. “There’s another bad thing puppies do,” Ronan said. His voice had dropped slightly, and was a little lower than Gansey was used to. 

Gansey swallowed so that his own voice didn’t crack. “What’s that?” 

Ronan leaned forward. “They like to stick their face in your crotch,” he said without breaking eye contact. His face was so, so red. His heart beat hard enough that Gansey could see his chest moving with it. “Because there’s scent glands there and puppies like how their owners smell.” 

Gansey’s expensive name brand sneakers scuffed in the dirt as he moved his feet. It wasn’t like he’d been sitting prim and proper like a _lady_ to begin with but now his thighs were open a little wider. The clearing was silent after that. Gansey wondered if he was hearing his heart pounding or Ronan’s heart. “Oh,” he said to break the silence before it became awkward. 

There was plenty of time to shove Ronan’s head away from his crotch but Gansey kept his hands planted on the stump on either side of him. He didn’t move, though he noted that Ronan’s shoulders were broad enough to spread his knees apart even further. Ronan looked up at Gansey the entire time, even as he rested his closed mouth against the seam of Gansey’s slacks, which happened to be right against his dick. 

The slacks were cotton. Gansey could feel the exhales through Ronan’s nose and the press of his lips. He was already hard, he realized, but now he filled out completely and twitched against Ronan’s mouth. He should probably push Ronan away now. It was just a silly game they were playing but this felt...less like a game...and Gansey didn’t want to ‘punish’ or reprimand Ronan for it. Gansey had to break eye contact then, to tip his head back and close his eyes. _“Oh,”_ he repeated. 

The next time it happened was at the Barnes, after the school year had started. The Barns was Ronan’s home, the home of all the Lynchs. Currently there were only three in the household. Aurora and her youngest son Matthew were in the kitchen baking a treat for the cows, whatever that meant. Niall was away on a business trip and the eldest son, Declan, was spending the night with a friend. 

Gansey lounged on Ronan’s bed, propped up against the pillows, reading a poetry book in Latin and trying to ignore the headache that was brewing between his temples. He wasn’t very good at Latin, despite his best efforts. 

Ronan sat at the foot of the bed, back against the wall, not really focused on his homework. He’d been twirling his pencil for at least fifteen minutes. Now he paused and cocked his head, listening to the house. His blue eyes flitted to the doorway. After a moment, he set the pencil down and moved his text book from his lap to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Ronan got up on his hands and knees and crawled over Gansey’s body. “I think I’ve been too good a puppy,” Ronan said under his breath. 

Gansey’s face flushed immediately. He thought of that day in the forest, of Ronan’s face between his legs and how Gansey had felt as though he were going to combust. He set the book on his chest, used his body to mark his place. “You have been very good,” Gansey admitted quietly. His gaze darted to the door, nervous that Aurora or Matthew would walk by and see something that Gansey wasn’t sure he could explain. 

Ronan ducked his head and for a wild second, Gansey thought that his puppy was going to kiss him. Instead, he scraped his teeth against Gansey’s jawline in a mockery of a bite. Gansey hadn’t told Ronan not to do that. He hadn’t trained his puppy. At least Gansey was fairly sure that the scrape wouldn’t leave a mark. 

Gansey drew in his breath quietly. Again, he was ill inclined to stop Ronan. He didn’t know what stopped him, except maybe that he liked it. Gansey often thought of that day in the woods five months ago. Particularly when his hand was wrapped around his dick. He didn’t bring it up to Ronan, though, because he was afraid of scaring Ronan away. When it came to physical affection, Ronan could be skittish. 

Ronan wasn’t skittish now. He retreated just enough that his face lined up with Gansey’s crotch. Ronan carefully shouldered Gansey’s thighs apart and crouched between them. His eyes were on Gansey’s the whole while, as he nosed at Gansey’s crotch. There was a moment where Ronan held himself tight and tense. 

Gansey adjusted his lower half, spreading his legs wider to make room for his very big puppy. 

All of the tight tension bled out of Ronan immediately. He sighed, which Gansey imagined he felt through the material of his cargo shorts. They were a little thicker than the uniform slacks. Ronan rubbed his nose and lips against Gansey. He watched Gansey’s expression through narrowed eyes. Then he lifted his head, but only enough that he could press his cheek against the front of Gansey’s shorts. “Shouldn’t you be telling me that I’m a bad puppy?” Ronan asked quietly.

Gansey felt that heat sweep through him and recognized it for what it was this time: arousal. Ronan turned him on, made his dick hard as steel and his heart fluttery and his breath catch. If he didn’t recognize this as arousal then he would have thought that he was ill. He blinked, trying to focus on Ronan’s question. Then he shook his head no. 

Ronan’s brow furrowed slightly. He nodded, which caused his cheek to rub against the heat of Gansey’s erection. 

Gansey closed his eyes again as the pleasure washed over him. He knew the excitement of his own body now and was at once thrilled and afraid of Ronan producing that reaction from him. Would Ronan dare with Aurora and Matthew in the house? 

Ronan nuzzled him again, this time with purpose. He shifted again so that his face was pressed right between Gansey’s legs, against Gansey’s balls. His mouth was open and the breath he took was like he was breathing Gansey in. “Are you sure that I’m not bad?” His words were muffled. 

Gansey wanted very much to cum but he was sure he would die of humiliation if he did. He focused on keeping his hips still. “Don’t you trust me?” Gansey managed. He wasn’t sure what this line of questioning was about but he didn’t like it. 

Ronan nodded. 

“Then you should trust me when I say that you’re a good puppy, Ronan,” Gansey said firmly. His head spun with Ronan’s nearness and his dick ached to be touched. 

Ronan met his eye for a long few moments. Finally, he said, “You haven’t said I’m good.” 

Gansey sighed. He put both hands on Ronan’s head and lifted his own off the pillow to look Ronan in the eye. “You’re so good, puppy.” Gansey watched Ronan’s pupils dilate. 

After Niall Lynch was murdered, Gansey’s puppy grew into a fierce dog. His puppy teeth were full grown adult teeth and he wasn’t holding back when he bit. Ronan used his sharp teeth on himself, mostly. Sometimes Gansey got caught in the crosshairs. Lately, the unlucky - very lucky - victim of those teeth was Joseph Kavinsky. He wasn’t even sixteen yet. 

Gansey didn’t see what Ronan saw in Kavinsky. Everything about Kavinsky was vile, from his black eyes to his gold chains to the way he called Ronan _bitch. Gansey’s bitch._ It made Gansey so angry that someone would come and taint the pure - hot, sexy, intimate - thing that he and Ronan had. Was nothing sacred? Did every good thing have to be torn away from Ronan and Gansey? Kavinsky was a rat that didn’t deserve to have Ronan’s teeth in his scruff. 

But Gansey wasn’t blind and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that those late nights turned early mornings with Kavinsky were about more than _racing and getting drunk_ like Ronan said they were. It felt like watching his husband go off and cheat with the town skank, in full view of everyone. There were rumors going around but they didn’t seem to touch Ronan and Kavinsky only encouraged them. Gansey was scared, alright? He was scared that he was losing what little bit of Ronan he had; he was worried that one night Kavinsky would find out that Gansey’s puppy was still there beneath the tough guard dog exterior; he was terrified of Ronan dying like he wanted to. 

Gansey stood at an open window in Monmouth, staring down at the parking lot. It was four-thirty am and he hadn’t yet been to sleep. 

Ronan and Kavinsky peeled into the parking lot and got out of their cars. It had started with fists in each other's faces but somehow that changed to a push and pull and then to almost kissing but not quite. Looking at them made Gansey sick to his stomach. “Bye, Ro,” Kavinsky purred as he climbed back into the driver's seat of his white Mitsubishi. Ro. 

“Fuck you, K,” Ronan replied with a raised middle finger. He walked into Monmouth without looking back.

Gansey shifted away from the window and sat down in the middle of his model of Henrietta. His eyes burned. His heart was heavy. He wondered if they’d fucked. He wondered if Ronan had pressed his face between Kavinsky’s legs. 

By the time Ronan entered the loft, Gansey had himself under control. Ronan didn’t look surprised to see him. He navigated the model of the town with exaggerated care, meaning that he was drunk. Gansey could smell it on him from fifteen feet away. Ronan didn’t acknowledge Gansey until after he’d gone to his room and was behind the closed door for long, long minutes. Long enough to chug another beer. 

Gansey felt the anger burn within him. He continued to carefully work on his model. It had to be perfect, this model. It was the only thing in his life that he could control. Even the mint plant felt out of his control. Gansey rubbed his aching eyes with the heel of his hand, casting his glasses askew. 

Ronan’s door creaked. His footsteps shuffled across the floor toward Gansey. He collapsed in a heap beside Gansey, a careful splay of his limbs. “I hoped you would be asleep.” 

“No such luck,” Gansey said with as much disinterest as he could muster. As though it didn’t matter to him that his puppy was out playing with that rat like Kavinsky was of the same species. He did not ask how it went with Kavinsky because he didn’t want details. 

“I’m fucking tired,” Ronan said. He held out a black leather collar as a peace offering. 

For a moment, Gansey considered denying the olive branch and clinging to his anger. But Ronan was angry enough for both of them, and being angry felt like a waste of time when Ronan might die any day. He set his current building aside and rubbed his eyes again. They really did hurt and working the dark didn’t help matters. Gansey took the collar and felt the supple leather against his skin, worn that way by the many times it had found itself around Ronan’s neck. 

Ronan reeked of beer, as he did so often lately. His sigh of relief smelled terrible. 

As Gansey buckled the collar around Ronan’s neck, he was tempted to make his dog brush his teeth. Instead, he rose to his feet and plucked a leaf from the mint plant that sat on his desk. This was offered to Ronan in a way that didn’t encourage him to refuse. 

Ronan licked it out of Gansey’s hand. No sharp teeth, no biting remarks, none of the usual skittishness that Ronan still hadn’t outgrown. It was too dark to see his expression. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Gansey said. “We can at least _pretend_ to sleep.” He tugged on the collar’s D ring to empathize his instruction. 

Ronan got to his feet and followed Gansey to bed. A shift of moonlight revealed blood on Ronan’s face and his knuckles. He caught Gansey’s frown and pulled his shirt over his head, using it to wipe away the blood before discarding it on the floor. 

Gansey wondered if this was the first time that Ronan’s shirt had hit the floor that night. He didn’t want to think of it. “I don’t want blood in my bed,” Gansey said sharply. It was the tone he used for Ronan Lynch, not for his puppy. Softer, Gansey asked, “Are your jeans clean?” 

Ronan shimmied out his jeans, which was an answer in and of itself. There was a dark mark on Ronan’s hip. 

Gansey’s heart twisted. He climbed into bed and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as though it held answers. With his peripherals he watched Ronan join him. 

The bed dipped beneath Ronan’s weight. He was getting bigger every day; less a puppy and more a yearling. Almost fully grown. Ronan was close enough that Gansey could feel his breaths against his shoulder. 

Gansey didn’t want to fight. But he wanted to know. “Have you been bad, puppy?” 

He felt the change in Ronan, the alertness and the tension. “Yes,” Ronan said because he was used to confessing his sins. 

Gansey turned his head but Ronan’s face was cast in shadow. “Show me.” 

There was a pause as Ronan bunched his muscles. It wasn’t a pounce like a dog, but a strike like a snake. Ronan’s teeth sank painfully into Gansey’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. 

Gansey gasped as the pain shot through him hard enough to make him dizzy. He had long enough to wonder if this was what Kavinsky was after. 

Then Ronan released him. He scraped his tongue across the bite mark, lapping up the few droplets of blood. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

If Gansey didn’t know that Ronan didn’t lie, he would think that his puppy was lying to him. He forced the next words out of his mouth, “Is...is that all?” 

Ronan’s face was still in shadow when he said, “that’s all.” His tone made Gansey nervous because there was something unspoken, a silent _for now._

The bite mark throbbed in time with Gansey’s heart beat. He didn’t want his dog laying with rats. They could fight about it later. 

Ronan nuzzled Gansey’s neck. His tongue darted out to lick a hot stripe up Gansey’s neck. He wiggled closer, like when they were young in the woods, eager to be close. “Don’t be mad,” he said. And, “it’s your fault for not training me.”

It was meant to be a joke but it cut all the same. Gansey pressed the heels of his hands to his tired eyes and said nothing. Was Ronan right? Was Gansey pushing him toward Kavinsky? 

Ronan gently bit Gansey’s jaw; a puppy bite. “Don’t be mad,” Ronan whispered. He didn’t have to whisper. It was just the two of them. His weight shifted as he got to his knees. Ronan positioned himself between Gansey’s thighs, curled on his side so that one of Gansey’s legs was draped across his ribs. He pushed his face between Gansey’s thighs, where all that separated Gansey’s genitals from Ronan’s face were a thin pair of boxers. 

Gansey wasn’t hard. He was too tired and too upset to be hard, no matter that he was a virile young man. Or so he thought. The first nuzzle of Ronan’s face against his soft cock was enough to get his body interested. 

Ronan rubbed his cheek against Gansey’s cock, breathing in his scent through his open mouth. Then he turned that mouth to the bulge and his tongue slid along the cottoned length. 

Gansey made a noise he didn’t know he was capable of. He lifted his hips just the slightest bit before remembering himself and stilling. 

Ronan kissed and licked Gansey’s erection. He didn’t seem to mind the dampening fabric between them, just kept at it until the front of Gansey’s underwear were soaked through with saliva. 

His mouth felt so good, even with the barrier between them. Gansey’s head spun as pleasure coursed through him. He was going to cum. Gansey didn’t care just so long as Ronan didn’t stop. “Oh!” Gansey moaned as Ron tongue rasped over the head of his cock. “There, puppy. Lick me there please.”

A growl rumbled in Ronan’s throat like a purr. He wrapped his mouth over the head of Gansey’s cock as best he could when it was pressed against Gansey’s hip, and then he sucked. Ronan sucked lightly but it felt incredible to Gansey, who had only been touched there by himself and Ronan, and who had never had a mouth on him. 

Gansey came a minute later, further soaking his boxers. His legs trembled and if he’d been standing he would have fallen. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. It was a few minutes before Gansey sat up and peeled off his boxers, trying not to drip fluids onto Ronan. “I do not want to be wearing those when they dry,” he muttered. 

Ronan lay curled on his side, a pained expression on his face. He made no attempt to move, as though he was frozen. It didn’t look like Ronan had orgasmed. 

Gansey flopped back onto his pillow. He moved his hands without thinking, urging Ronan up to lay atop him. He reached for Ronan with his hand.

A hand around his wrist stopped him from making contact with Ronan’s erection, which Gansey could feel against his hip. He whined. “Don’t.” 

“Don’t you want to cum? Don’t I get to take care of my puppy?” Gansey demanded, more confused than upset. 

Ronan whined again. His grip didn’t ease. 

“Well…” Gansey said slowly. He had no clue what Ronan’s hang up was but he wouldn’t push. He pulled his hands back to his own chest, where Ronan could see both of them. “You know, Ronan, you’re still my puppy but you’re getting big. And dogs like to hump legs, don’t they?” 

Ronan went still for a long moment. Then he slowly nodded. He shifted down slightly, so that his erection pressed into Gansey’s thigh. There was a wet spot on the front of his underwear, like getting Gansey off had been unbearably sexy. His hips rolled, then, dragging the clothed length of his cock against Gansey’s bare thigh. Ronan didn’t make a sound but he shivered and his hands curled around Gansey’s biceps. 

Gansey wished that he could get hard again just to urge Ronan up a few inches and rub against each other. He swallowed, alternated between watching Ronan’s face and the shadowed lower half of his body. Ronan was so turned on that his cock left a wet smear across Gansey’s thigh even with his boxers on. Gansey reached for Ronan’s head, lightly ran his nails along the back of his skull. “Good boy, puppy.” He wasn’t sure that dirty talk was for him but he found himself babbling. “You’re doing so good.”

Ronan reacted to the praise by grinding a little faster and clenching his fists around Gansey’s biceps a little harder. He panted through his open mouth as he rocked against Gansey’s thigh. If he went even a little higher, he could slot himself in the curve of Gansey’s joint but Ronan seemed determined to make everything more difficult than it needed to be. 

“You’ll cum for me, won’t you, puppy?”

This earned Gansey a whimper and Ronan’s hips stuttered in their rhythm. His cock was so hard and it absolutely radiated heat. Gansey guessed that he would be silky smooth to the touch and that it would be so good to glide skin-to-skin. Ronan took things slow, though, always, and so Gansey wasn’t sure when he would actually find out. 

Gansey moved his hands to rub his knuckles along Ronan’s neck and over his collarbones. He was too skinny but that was a worry for later. Instead, he murmured low encouragement while his hands found the spots on Ronan’s neck that made Ronan tremble. 

It felt like a victory when Ronan finally came. It felt like an even bigger victory when Ronan peeled off his wet boxers, dropping them onto the floor, and lay beside Gansey naked except for the collar. 

Gansey rolled toward him, eyes aching, body spent, emotions a mess. He ran his palm over Ronan’s buzzed hair. “Good puppy, Ronan.” 

They were sixteen when Noah came to live with them. 

Gansey really didn’t think Noah was Ronan’s type. It wasn’t that Noah wasn’t handsome; because he was even with that smudge on his cheek and the dark circles around his eyes. Noah often seemed untouchable, especially considering how cold his skin was. Touching Noah was like touching a block of ice. 

The addition of Noah to Monmouth Manufacturing meant that Gansey and Ronan couldn’t just...do whatever it was they did. Their puppy play. What a stupid name, Gansey reflected. Though he himself had referred to it as such before he even knew what it was. Although Noah was rarely out of his room, they didn’t want to get caught and Ronan didn’t want to play in his room. 

Gansey was jonesing for Ronan. His skin felt hot and achy with desire. He was terrified of overstepping one of Ronan’s constantly shifting boundaries. The first night that Gansey heard them together, he’d been woken by Ronan having a nightmare. Ronan didn’t scream, but he did cry out once and that was enough to jolt Gansey from his sleep. 

In the two minutes it took Gansey to get out of bed, Noah had already slipped into Ronan’s room. Gansey stood unsure in his bare feet, wondering if Noah could really help Ronan. But about fifteen minutes later - long enough for his feet to ache with cold - Noah’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Your hands are so warm, Ronan. Keep touching me. I feel alive when you touch me.” 

Gansey flushed and turned heel. He went back to his own bed and burrowed beneath the covers. That didn’t block out the quiet sounds coming from behind Ronan’s door. When the noises finally fell silent, Gansey let out a quiet sigh of relief. He wouldn’t be sleeping for the rest of the night, he knew. Not after that. His mind reeled. Maybe, he thought, Ronan is a slut. 

This wasn’t a malicious thought. Gansey loved Ronan too much to judge him based on how many partners he had. Although the quality of those partners varied greatly. Noah was much, much better than Kavinsky in Gansey’s opinion. It probably wasn’t a bad thing, this new pairing. Gansey liked Noah and it was clear that Noah liked Ronan. If Ronan and Noah found comfort in each other then that was fine. It was good, even, because Ronan desperately needed to be loved and he needed positive influence. Noah was a good soul. 

Gansey told himself all of this but it didn’t stop his heart from aching. 

The next time that Ronan’s nightmares woke Gansey from sleep, Noah wasn’t there to soothe Ronan. Gansey didn’t go into Ronan’s room, but lay in bed and waited to see if Ronan would be joining him. He didn’t want to intrude unless it was life or death. Ronan would be furious if he did. 

A while later, Ronan’s door creaked open and his quiet footsteps grew nearer to Gansey’s bed. He climbed into Gansey’s bed without asking, slipping beneath the covers and laying as close as he could without touching Gansey. 

Some of the heartache was soothed by Ronan coming to him in his time of need. Gansey reached out and brushed Ronan’s cheek with the back of his hand. Ronan’s skin was warm and dry. “Puppy,” he murmured and though he didn’t mean to, he poured all of his feelings into the nickname. 

Ronan made a rumbling purring noise in the back of his throat. He nuzzled Gansey’s hand and sighed. His breath only faintly smelled like beer. Ronan turned his face and pressed his parted lips to Gansey’s palm. It wasn’t a true kiss. 

They had never kissed before. 

Gansey wished that they would kiss. A real kiss. He had kissed other people before - no matter how much he loved Ronan - but those people weren’t Ronan. Gansey was sure that it would not at all be the same. 

Ronan mouthed along the heel of Gansey’s hand and to his inner wrist. His tongue darted out, tickled the sensitive skin there. 

Gansey thought of Ronan’s tongue on his cock and sighed. 

Ronan ghosted his lips from Gansey’s wrist to his elbow and then up to his shoulder. 

Gansey arched his neck in invitation. When Ronan took that invitation, licking a stripe up the side, Gansey moaned. It was soft and quiet, the kind of moan you make when you don’t want to be overheard. 

“Don’t worry about Noah,” Ronan said and nipped Gansey’s earlobe. “He’s a voyeuristic little shit.” This was said with a warm fondness that reminded Gansey of the Ronan Before. He kissed the skin just below Gansey’s ear. 

Gansey’s moan was marginally louder but not by much. He wasn’t really the type to scream his pleasure; which he suspected was more due to his pedigree and upbringing rather than his actual nature. 

Ronan scraped his teeth against Gansey’s neck one final time. He shifted between Gansey’s legs, lowered his head between his thighs. His teeth sank into the flesh of Gansey’s thigh; not hard enough to draw blood but harder than the usual little puppy nibbles. 

Gansey let out a breathy whine. He tried to pull away, get away from those teeth that both tickled and aroused (and wasn’t that a strange mix of feelings). “Ronan!” 

Ronan unclamped his jaws but still chased Gansey with his mouth, licking the bite. His mouth was hot. 

Gansey gave a desperate sigh. He didn’t try to run anymore, waited with bated breath to see what Ronan would do next. A brief thought of _did Ronan get off with Noah?_ Crossed his mind but was gone before it could take root. As hard as Gansey was, as much as he wanted Ronan’s mouth on him, he wouldn’t force his puppy. It had to be Ronan’s choice. 

Ronan kissed the flat plane of Gansey’s abdomen, just above the hemline of his boxers. He trailed kisses from one hip to the other, lightly biting the jutting bones. 

Heat coursed through Gansey’s entire body. He was delirious with arousal, wanted Ronan so badly that he would do just about anything if it meant that Ronan would put that mouth to real use. His stomach fluttered with every touch of Ronan’s lips and his cock was tenting his boxers. Gansey licked his lips, wanting and waiting. 

Ronan looked up and met his eye. He lowered his head again, still maintaining eye contact, and finally put his mouth on the front of Gansey’s underwear, on the bulge of Gansey’s cock. He licked along the length of it, leaving a wet spot on the cotton fabric. 

Gansey tipped his head back and moaned. He fisted the sheets, and kept his butt firmly planted on the mattress. “Good boy,” he mumbled encouragement. 

The praise did Ronan good. He licked and sucked the length of Gansey’s cock, mouth almost never still. He managed to work a good wet spot into the cotton, soaking through it with his saliva. Ronan moved his mouth all over the length of Gansey’s straining, leaking cock. Then he sucked on the head, sweet little suckles. 

Gansey lost it. He came in his underwear, partially in Ronan’s mouth because it soaked right though. His orgasm was short and intense and left him shivering. 

Ronan licked his lips, tongue brushing against the sensitive head of Gansey’s cock in the same motion. He stretched out beside Gansey, then, and placed his palm over Gansey’s heart. 

Gansey shucked off his wet underwear. Then he placed a hand over Ronan’s and fell back into sleep. 

Gansey lost another piece of Ronan for a third time when they were almost seventeen. They were in the Pig, Gansey driving because while he did trust Ronan with his life, he didn’t trust Ronan with his car. 

They passed the boy on the bicycle. Gansey mentally named him as Adam Parrish. The boy with the scholarship. 

If Gansey hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t have seen the look of wild desire on Ronan’s face. If he wasn’t always looking at Ronan, then he wouldn’t have seen how Ronan’s head turned to keep Adam in his sights or how Ronan shifted in his seat or how he slumped down once Adam was out of sight. Ronan closed his eyes and the look on his face was enough that Gansey knew it was only a matter of time until Adam found his way into Ronan’s pants. 

Gansey didn’t know much about Adam. He resolved to find out more, to feel out the new boy. If Gansey got to Adam first - before another clique at school snatched him up, like Kavinsky’s rat pack - then maybe it would work out. After all, they had a good thing going with Noah. 

After seeing Adam, Gansey drove Ronan out to the woods. This was for his search for Glendower but they did spend some time not looking for Glendower. 

Gansey paused to look at his map of the leylines when Ronan’s arms came around him. A split second later, there were teeth in his neck. Not like the time Gansey asked Ronan to demonstrate how he behaved with Kavinsky. This felt good like honey and fire in his veins. Gansey dropped the map. 

Neither of them noticed. 

Ronan’s hardon pressed against Gansey’s ass and his hands slid up the front of Gansey’s shirt. 

It distinctly reminded Gansey of Noah, holding him on the sleepless nights that Ronan was gone. Except where Noah was so cold that he made Gansey tremble with the chill, Ronan was an inferno going to burn him up. 

Ronan’s hands were slick with sweat from the heat of the day and the heat of his lust. He sucked Gansey’s neck, working a hickey into his skin. This would be the first time. 

Gansey’s eyes were half-lidded as he gazed down at the tent in his shorts. He was suddenly struck with the need to remind Ronan that Ronan was his puppy and Gansey was the master here. He twisted around, backed Ronan into the nearest tree trunk. Ronan had grown to be several inches taller than Gansey but if Gansey raised his heels just a little then he could line them up. 

Ronan didn’t protest but there was hesitance there, in the way that his hands hung at his sides and his eyes went wide. 

“You’re my puppy,” Gansey reminded him. “Let me take care of you.” 

Ronan rewarded him by placing his hands on Gansey’s waist. His cock twitched against Gansey’s. 

Gansey moved Ronan’s hands down to his ass. It was partially because he wanted Ronan’s hands there and partially because his legs would get too tired to hold him up by the end of this. “Why are you so damn tall? When did you get this big?”

Ronan made a rumbling noise in his throat. His hands squeezed Gansey’s ass. “We’re usually horizontal,” he pointed out. His cheek rubbed against Gansey’s temple. 

Gansey rolled his hips. His face was level with Ronan’s throat. He brushed his lips against Ronan’s Adam’s apple. 

They rutted against each other in the forest, hips rolling and sharing the same air, until they both came. Gansey held out until Ronan came, until he was sure that Ronan came. And then he let himself go. He shivered and trembled in Ronan’s arms. He pressed his forehead to Ronan’s chest as he caught his breath. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Then Ronan said, “We should wash off.” 

“Where?” Gansey asked. 

“In the river right there,” Ronan said, pointing. 

Gansey turned to look, absolutely bewildered. There was no river in this part of the woods. Yet he could hear it, if he focused. He straightened and glanced down at his shorts. Ugh. There was no way he was going to do the walk of shame today; not when it was so damn uncomfortable to have your own cum dripping down your leg. “Alright.” 

They washed in the river, their bodies and their clothes. Then they spread their clothes on a rock to dry. Ronan lay on his back on the shore, naked and unconcerned. 

Gansey went back for the map he’d dropped. He picked it up and looked closely. He knew exactly where they were, and had been keeping careful track. There was no river here. Gansey rejoined Ronan beside the river and kept looking down at the map. They couldn’t have forgotten it. Someone would have caught it. 

“Don’t think too hard, Gansey,” Ronan said without opening his eyes. 

Gansey brought Adam into their group but he didn’t immediately lose Ronan to him. It was absolutely bewildering that Adam didn’t have any interest in Ronan as a partner whatsoever. No one was immune to Ronan Lynch. The dead would rise for Ronan. 

Then Gansey met Blue (he called her Jane because no one else did) and his world shifted. His axis rotated a little away from Ronan. If Gansey didn’t have both of them, he thought that he would surely die. Little did he know. 

He may not have seduced Adam, but something did shift in Ronan. He changed suddenly, seemingly between one night and the next. Ronan spent more and more time with Kavinsky. Not just at night. Sometimes he spent entire days at a time with the rat bastard. He even hung out with Kavinsky’s rat pack. 

Gansey couldn’t stand it. They had been Ronan-and-Gansey for so long and it felt like he was completely losing Ronan. His feelings for Jane only made it more complicated. Was Ronan acting out because he was jealous? “Why are you with him?” Gansey snapped. 

Ronan stalked Monmouth like a panther in a cage. As if their sanctuary was really a cage and Gansey was forcing him to be there. That wasn’t how it was. “He’s like me,” Ronan said, as though the words were being ripped out of him. 

“He is _nothing_ like you,” Gansey snarled. He rarely lost his temper but this was unacceptable. Ronan really couldn’t be comparing himself to that loser drug addict wannabe Bulgarian gangster piece of shit excuse for a human being. 

Ronan just looked at Gansey and then he was out the door between one heartbeat and the next. 

Ronan went quiet after Kavinsky disappeared. 

Gansey sat on the floor on Main Street because it was the biggest street in life and his model. 

Ronan lay on his side with his head in Gansey’s lap, face turned toward his body. He lay as though someone had snuffed out his flame and he was devastated. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Ronan said quietly, lips moving against Gansey’s abdomen. 

Gansey knew who Ronan was talking about. “And why is that?”

A long silence followed the words. “He’s dead,” Ronan said even quieter. 

Gansey expected to feel satisfaction but he was only confused and worried. What did Ronan mean, Kavinsky was dead? How did Ronan know? A darker thought: was Ronan the one who made him that way? Gansey stroked the buzzed hair of Ronan’s head. It was soft beneath his hand, for all that Ronan himself was prickly. “Oh,” he said, because that seemed the safest response. 

Ronan whined like a wounded animal. He turned his face down, nuzzled Gansey’s crotch. 

Gansey froze. A part of him said that now wasn’t the time. The larger part of him had missed Ronan so much that he couldn’t dream of stopping him. He kept one hand on Ronan’s head, put the other behind him to lean against. 

Ronan’s hands went for the button on Gansey’s shorts. The noise he made was a hybrid between a whine and a growl as he tried to pull down Gansey’s shorts but couldn’t because he was sitting. That did not deter Ronan for more than a moment. He slid his hand into Gansey’s boxers and pulled his mostly-soft cock out. 

That was when Gansey forgot to breathe. There was never a time when Ronan had touched him skin on skin like that - not there - and he’d never been so forward. His puppy was normally somewhat skittish, even after years of pushing his face between Gansey’s legs. He trembled. 

Ronan didn’t even jack him off to full hardness, he just opened his mouth and sucked Gansey into that wet warmth. He could go down to the root when Gansey wasn’t hard, and Ronan took full advantage of that. 

Gansey let out a shocked little noise that didn’t hide his pleasure in the slightest. His hand flew to his mouth, trying to be quiet because Noah was home. Well, as home as a ghost could be. Voyeur indeed. The feeling of Ronan’s mouth on his cock got him so hard so quickly that he was afraid Ronan would choke. 

Ronan did not choke, which didn’t seem to speak to his gag reflex so much as his experience. He sucked Gansey’s cock like he’d been doing it all this time. It was wet and hot and Ronan moaned as he did it, sending vibrations all throughout Gansey. He knew what he was doing. 

Gansey didn’t last longer than five minutes. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. 

Ronan swallowed every drop of cum. Then he rolled up onto his hands and knees. He went for the button on his jeans, popped it open, and pulled his zipper down. When he pressed his face into Gansey’s neck, his breath smelled like cum. “Please,” he groaned against Gansey’s pulse. 

Gansey reached for Ronan. They’d never got past humping. Hands had never been slipped beneath clothes. At least Gansey’s hadn’t. At least not Ronan’s clothes - but Jane was a different story and so was Noah - and that made him feel like a virgin again. Like he’d never done this before. He pulled Ronan’s cock free from his underwear. It was heavy and hot in his hand, the tip glistening with precum. Gansey thought about sucking him off, but wasn’t sure if that was what Ronan wanted. So he only stroked Ronan, did it how he liked it (and how Noah liked it). 

Ronan was as close to Gansey as he could get without being on his lap. He kept his face tucked against Gansey’s neck, never raising his head at all. Both hands were planted firmly on the floor. His entire body rocked, a small back and forth that Ronan didn’t even seem to be aware of. Ronan panted through his open mouth but he didn’t moan, not a real moan, not even once, even though his cock leaked precum all over Gansey’s hand. When he came it was with a whimper and a shudder. “I’m sorry,” Ronan whispered. 

Then he got up, tucked himself back into his jeans, and disappeared out the front door. 

Gansey washed his hand. He crawled into bed and screamed into his pillow. He ignored Noah when he felt the ghost boy come and lay down beside him. 

It did not come as a surprise when Ronan started seriously courting Adam. It was only marginally surprising when Adam relented. He still didn’t seem to love Ronan. Not how Ronan should be loved. But Gansey thought he was better than Kavinsky and if Adam needed to be a rebound, then so be it. 

Blue told Gansey that he could kiss her anywhere but her mouth and Gansey took her up on that offer. They spent many nights in the Pig or in Gansey’s bed, touching and kissing and tasting each other. 

Noah visited them less and less. Not even Blue could keep him with them. “Can’t you dream something?” They asked Ronan. But he only shook his head. 

They were still seventeen and Blue was still fairly new - even Adam was still practically new - when Gansey met Henry. Not that he didn’t know of Henry. But there was another shifting of the world on its axis and Gansey’s heart beat for yet another person who wasn’t Ronan. 

Ronan hadn’t come to Gansey or worn his collar since he and Adam became boyfriends. Since long before then, if Gansey was being honest. It hurt to have that missing from their relationship. Henry and Blue were perfect but they weren’t Ronan. It wasn’t the same. 

Gansey didn’t want it to but it felt like this was going to be a story that would start off as _“remember when I sucked your dick?”_ And Gansey could not stand it. Didn’t want to have to bear that, bear the growth and rejection of his puppy, so he left. A road trip, Gansey proposed to Henry and Blue. Just the three of them. Whenever they wanted to go. 

As long as their destination was far away from Ronan.


End file.
